


In Memoriam of Lecter's Revenge on the Unsinkable Will Graham

by helshotashades



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, Where on Earth is Carmen Sandiego? (Cartoon 1994)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Case Fic, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, How Do I Tag, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mystery, Team Sassy Science (Hannibal), are the real focus here, be gay do crime, i guess, the hannigram is a side-note
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 6,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27678881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helshotashades/pseuds/helshotashades
Summary: In which Team Sassy Science works with Will Graham to capture the escaped Hannibal Lecter.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, i didnt mean to it just happened - Relationship, mentioned heu ships, slightest hint of beverly/zeller





	1. 19900303033333L840410

**Author's Note:**

> uhh for the record, none of this reflects my actual feelings on carmen sandiego ships, because like Malestrom/Carmen and Ivy/Zack is just.... no. I am a diehard Carmen/Ivy shipper FIGHT ME. it's just that Tim Curry's scandinavian accent Does Things to me like remind me of Mads Mikkelsen. i just about died laughing when i first came up with the idea about two years ago and decided to make it a thing. 
> 
> anyways, acme is basically the fbi here, and also i decided to format the chapters like an asshole and ruin the fun of people who like to go chapter by chapter by having like 300 word long chapters. you're welcome :)
> 
> i write really fuckin slow, so please don't expect anything too soon. i will update in batches corresponding to the actual episodes in retribution, so thats s4ep1-3 of Where on Earth is Carmen Sandiego. i will not post the second batch until i have finished the third, so please feed me comments! really, though, please feed me comments.
> 
> also this is basically the transcript from those carmen sandiego episodes but fitted to hannigram because i used up all the extra effort for hidden references. i will give a cookie to anyone who finds one.

Tonight is not a particularly dark night, given that it is a full moon. But darkness is not exactly necessary for an effective escape, and Doctor Hannibal Lecter knows this intimately. The orderlies at the Baltimore State Hospital For The Criminally Insane will be more relaxed while they can see. 

The orderly who comes around at this particular hour is new, with a permanent squint that suggests poor eyesight and a nervous temperament. Hannibal’s desk lamp is on, and it is late at night. The orderly walks up to the glass apprehensively, and taps on it. 

“Lecter?”, he calls. “It’s lights out.” 

He doesn’t respond. The orderly fumbles for his baton, and stabs it through the air holes in the glass towards the figure bent over its desk once, twice, three times. It collapses, and the orderly opens the cell door to investigate. It is a dummy, he realizes, nothing more than a jumpsuit stuffed with paper. He glances around, missing the motionless figure hiding in the shadows. “Lecter’s escaped!”, he screams, rushing out of the cell. The door is left open, forgotten, if only for a moment, but it is enough. 

Alarms blare, the doors to all cells automatically close and lock, and orderlies rush to get to safety, none of these things fast enough to contain Doctor Hannibal Lecter, who, for his part, leisurely makes his way to the recreation room, pressing a timed explosive to the wall. 

Three seconds later, a particularly brave or stupid orderly makes his way to towards Lecter, armed with only a combat knife, shying away from the view of the security cameras. It is very sharp, having been whetted this morning, as it has been every morning since Lecter came to the BSHCI. 

Thirty seconds later, an earth-shattering explosion interrupts the search for the escaped prisoner. 

Three minutes later, a seemingly unremarkable orderly strides through the front door of the BSHCI. Another orderly asks whether or not the deed is done, but he doesn’t seem to hear. 

Sirens wail in the distance as the FBI makes its way to the compound and begins to set up a perimeter. 

Hannibal will be long gone by then. 

It’s nearly five years now that he’s been trapped behind bars, and if his dearest Will has not yet fallen to his thieving impulses yet, they will almost certainly get divorced. If Will has, he will not be able to get their legal marriage dissolved in any way, shape, or form. Hannibal doesn’t know. He’s horribly behind on the news. 

It doesn’t matter. Will has betrayed him. His brow twitches, almost against his own will. It irks him more, and his brow furrows. He will have to punish Will. But now is not the time to dwell on that. Chiyoh has been sending him updates on Abigail. Hannibal grins, teeth bloody, savoring the sheer satisfaction of smiling. It’s about time to pay her a visit, no? 


	2. 19900303045743C840410

The wreckage of the entire recreational wing of the Baltimore State Hospital For The Criminally Insane is not pretty. It’s the kind of mess that people generally describe as ‘tragic’ but are still compelled to like moths to a flame. If Lecter was alive, and Will was still an ACME detective, it might have been described as an artful display. Unfortunately, Lecter was dead, and Will was a fugitive from the law, so instead it was simply an awful disaster, the likes of which nobody had seen since the Challenger. 

Dr. Frederick Chilton, Director of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, was a man respected by most everybody except for the medical community and the prisoners he presided over, that is to say, anyone who understood the psychobabble he was wont to spew or who had met him in person. Dr. Hannibal Lecter, serial thief and occasional cannibalistic killer, on the other hand, was a man despised by most everybody except for the medical community and his fellow prisoners at the BSHCI, that is to say, anyone who understood the psychobabble he was wont to spew or had never known him as a man who kept his promises.

Dr. Frederick Chilton, as it happens, did not understand the kind of complex metaphors and verbose jargon Lecter used, but he had known him as a man who kept his promises. And Lecter had made some promises to Chilton, chief among them that Chilton would grace his table one last time. Therefore, Dr. Chilton was in an abnormally good mood, knowing that Lecter was dead and gone. He is celebrating with an expensive bottle of whiskey which cost more than the yearly operating costs of the BSHCI when a glowing blue circle opens up in his office. 

Chilton scowls, briefly. Since the C5 was invented, Dr. Alana Bloom had been stepping in and out of his office whenever she pleased, whereas before she would have had to knock, and Chilton would have had time to hide the alcohol from her altogether unpleasantly pointy eyes. Luckily, only two ACME detectives enter from the blue hell-portal.

One of the detectives, Celder or Heller or something like that, takes one look at the label on the bottle and raises an eyebrow. “Celebrating something, Director Chilton?”, he asks. 

If Director Price had been anything like his predecessor, Director Crawford, his operatives would be professional and would not be able to comment. Unfortunately for Chilton, Director Price happened to be a part of the medical community, and while technically above insulting Chilton to his face, still sent his lackeys to make Chilton’s life difficult. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be celebrating the death of one of your inmates, would you, Director Chilton?”, the detective smirks. “That would make for awful PR, and you know that ACME agents are required by law to wear body cams and to release that footage to the public in the event of an outcry.” 

Chilton glares at him. “I don’t have to explain my private life to you, detectives. Kindly state your business or leave my office.”

“You know, all work and no play makes Chilton a dull boy.”, he quips. “In any case, we heard that there may have been a prison escape this morning.”

“Lecter escaped his cell last night.”, Chilton says, pausing for effect while internally grinning at the paling faces that stared back at him. “But! He died in the escape attempt.” 

Celder exhales heavily. “Now that’s a name I hoped I’d never hear again.” 

“Lecter’s a smart guy.”, the female operative points out, whose surname was some unpleasant animal, Ratz or Bats or something like that, and therefore preferred to go by her first name, which Chilton could never remember sober, nevertheless slightly tipsy. “He would never accidentally blow himself up trying to escape.” 

Chilton purses his lips. “It’s not that. Lecter made enemies, I am told. I have a missing orderly that was plotting to murder him for years. We have footage of that very orderly entering the rec room after Lecter and then leaving the building. I highly doubt Lecter would take kindly to an attempt on his life.” 

She shakes her head. “Lecter is a master manipulator and planner. If the guy had really posed a threat to his escape, he would have timed it so that he wouldn’t run into him. More likely Lecter wanted him to be present at his escape, for whatever reason.” 

“Look, Ms. Rats,”, Chilton snaps, losing his temper at the very suggestion of Lecter being on the loose, “we didn’t find any trace of him outside of the rec room, and not even the devil himself could have survived an explosion like that. The walls of the rec room are buried under tons of rubble.” 

Heller sighs. “Chilton, have you got the name of our suspect?” 

The woman just shakes her head again. 

“Yes.”, Chilton says, triumphantly. “His name is Matthew Brown.” 

“Come on.”, Batz says, sensibly for once, “Let’s go check out the evidence.” 


	3. 19900303073212K840410

While Zeller antagonizes Chilton, Beverly is thinking. 

The grounds are covered with dense foliage, a veritable forest surrounding it, so once somebody was outside the barbed wire fence, finding them would be difficult.. There is a thick layer of snow on the ground, but the walkways have been heavily salted. 

The CCTV tapes are all very convincing, and seeing as that’s more or less the extent of the evidence that they’ll be able to hand Price, convincing him that Lecter is alive will be difficult. Convincing herself is hard enough. Beverly wishes she could just go with Chilton’s assessment The fact of the matter is that there is no body, and when Brown walked out of the BSHCI’s front door, his gait was strikingly familiar, a showy, self-possessed sort of walk. 

The other tapes from before paint him as a quiet sort who kept to himself, shoulders hunched, shuffling about. Even as Brown made his way to the rec room, shoulders thrown back, proud, he wasn’t self-possessed. Granted, it was possibly an act, but seeing the blood on his face was unnerving. It sat around the edges of his face, as if he had been drenched in it but had tried to wash his face clean. Or as if Lecter had cut the man’s face off and worn it. It’s an awful, terrifying thought, but not enough to prove Lecter is alive. It is, however, enough for Beverly to argue that they should go over the tapes more carefully and not presume Lecter dead. 

“Over here!”, Zeller calls, pointing to a set of nearly perfect footprints in the snow, heading into the forest. “Whoever it was, they probably went down this way” 

Beverly nods, and hands him the spray can. Zeller quickly coats the impression with a light layer of gray primer, taking pictures with his handheld camera, while Beverly preps the dental stone slurry. 

Chilton steps into the snow himself, creating a similar footprint. “That’s an orderly’s footprint.”, he says dismissively, “These are the standard anti-slip shoes the orderlies are required to wear. Brown probably ran out here to escape the law.”

Zeller picks up a hunk of metal gingerly. It is barely recognizable as a watch. “Could this be Brown’s watch?”, he asks Beverly. 

Beverly shakes her head. “In the security footage, Brown wasn’t wearing a watch. This must be Lecter’s.” 

“No one could have escaped this blast and it was Lecter’s choices that put him beneath that pile of rubble.”, Chilton insists. “We’ve run through all the security footage and there’s no evidence of Lecter ever leaving the premises, either. As far as we know, Lecter is dead. Brown must have taken it as a trophy.”

“And exactly how likely is it that a man who despised Lecter would want to take something that belonged to him?”, Beverly spits. 

There is a long silence as Beverly refuses to back down, and Chilton sputters, at a loss for words. 

Price chooses that moment to C5 in for a checkup, grinning broadly as he slaps Chilton on the shoulder. “The good Doctor Chilton!”, he announces, “Just the man I wanted to meet. How’s the evidence collecting going?” 

Chilton clears his throat nervously. “We were able to recover a few things. Lecter had a few photographs he kept in his desk drawer, two of which miraculously survived.” He digs around in his pocket for a bit, and comes up with a set of slightly scorched photographs. 

There’s one of an official looking government building; a postcard, of sorts. It’s from a Liam Marlato, with the caption ‘Whig’, whatever that means. The other one is an image of Lecter and Will on a boat, smiling and showing off matching rings. It’s unnerving how genuinely happy Will appears. 

“Can we take these to the lab?”, Zeller asks, and Price grins at him. 

“What we should be saying,” Price says, smiling beatifically at Chilton, “is does our dear friend Doctor Chilton have an acceptable reason to keep those photographs? Since, of course, we are going to have to confiscate all of the late Doctor Lecter’s belongings as evidence.” 

Chilton hems and haws, but doesn’t give a reason. Beverly sighs, snatches the photos, and leaves for the lab as Chilton splutters in outrage. 


	4. 19900303190424K840202

It is somber, in the lab. Beverly turns over the photos, and Zeller studiously goes through the cardboard box that contains what few belongings Hannibal Lecter had left at the end of his life.

Price walks in and sighs. “Well, that’s the end of that. Hannibal Lecter is now officially dead.” 

“I can’t believe it,” Alana agrees, following him in in a half-daze, “He always seemed so...” 

“Indomitable?”, Price offers. 

“Undeadable?” Zeller returns.

Price favors Zeller with a wan smile. “Supernaturally present?”

“Scary even the Devil would look at him and send him right back?” 

Alana glares at them. They fall silent. They sit in silence for a long while. 

“So who’s gonna write the widower notice to Will?”, Price says, abruptly. Everyone stares at him. “What? We both know that the annulment and divorce fell through.” 

Alana goes stiff and marches off.

“What are you talking about, Price?”, Zeller asks. 

Price sighs heavily. “You two weren’t in on it, so you couldn’t have known, but you know when Will went rogue? Until we put Lecter away, he was still with us, just undercover. The honey trap was Jack’s idea. We managed to nail Lecter on their anniversary. Will never managed to get out of it.”, Price says, “In fact, I’m half convinced that that was why he kept on thieving.” 

“How?”, Zeller asks.

“Chilton,” Price spits, in the same manner one might spit ‘Hitler’, “testified against it.”

Zeller gasps, and then does a double take. “Wait, never mind. I’m not surprised. What d’you think Lecter promised him?”

Price shrugs. “No idea. But he testified that the only thing Lecter was mad about at the time was love, and that mental illness was no reason to be permitted a divorce, seeing as Will was well aware of it at the time of marriage.” 

Beverly’s brow furrows as she stares fixedly at the photo. She and Zeller had been pulled off the Lecter case when it had gone to Europe, and they know nothing about what happened there. “Price, what happened in Europe?”, Beverly asks, and Price sighs heavily. 

“Jack had Will start trapping,” he begins, “way back in late August. You know, back when Will was one of us say it loud, say it proud, but just say it, ACME detectives.” 


	5. 19840714041524G840202

“Hannibal!”, Will yelps in surprise. “You’re supposed to be in Europe, how did you get in here?” 

“I am well-acquainted with the custodial staff.”, Hannibal says, an inscrutable smirk on his face as he knocks over a file cabinet, spilling papers everywhere. 

Will’s eyes narrow. “Bullshit.”, he says, aiming a kick at Hannibal’s head. 

“It is the truth.”, Hannibal offers, calmly, ducking behind a nearby file cabinet and shoving it at Will, who jumps out of the way. Hannibal uses the opportunity to get on top of another file cabinet and display a silver key dangling on a chain. Will charges at him, and Hannibal jumps over him, using his momentum to knock back the file cabinet and all the cabinets behind them. 

“Why are you here?”, Will asks, turning to aim a savage kick at Hannibal’s knee. 

“I’m afraid our little cat-and-mouse games are at an end. I will have to flee the country soon.”, Hannibal says stolidly, grabbing Will’s leg and yanking up. “It is only right that I should say goodbye to a friend.” 

“Are we friends?”, Will asks rhetorically, bringing his other leg up into Hannibal’s chin and knocking them both to the ground. Will is a much better grappler than Hannibal, and it has the added bonus of keeping Hannibal occupied until the cops show up. 

“We play our own little game with one another,” Hannibal replies, flipping them over and shoving Will away, “which, if it does not make us friends, makes us something more.” 

Will answers with a lightning-fast flurry of punches. “You’re an epidemic on society, Hannibal, and I'm about to become the cure.”

Hannibal smiles faintly as he retreats. “That simply means you require my existence for your own purpose. Like two sides of the same coin, you and I. We both live for the game. ” 

“No,” Will gasps, “Never.” 

Hannibal ignores his outburst, and continues. “I am willing to admit to myself that the art of the crime is what compels me. When will you?”

“All that compels you is greed!”, Will accuses, stabbing a finger in Hannibal’s direction.

“Projection, Will.”, Hannibal smirks. “That moral superiority of yours will someday crumble like the walls of Jericho, and you will see what I see in you.”, Hannibal says, “You are a thief at heart, my dear, and right now it's my freedom you are trying to steal. Who knows what you will crave next, hmm?”

Will tilts his chin up defiantly. “I know exactly what I will crave next, and it’s a normal, quiet life by myself and my dogs.” 

“You will find your quiet little life unbearably dull without me, and then you will truly become who you are meant to be. In the meantime,” Hannibal smirks, lighting a match. 

Will’s eyes widen. “You wouldn’t.” 

The match falls onto a file, and the fire catches to the paper in a flash of bright orange flame. It takes only a matter of minutes for the entire room to become a blazing hellscape.

While Will is occupied with escaping the rapidly growing flames, Hannibal disappears out the door. Will glances at the flames, and then looks at the door. There is a fire extinguisher on the wall, and it would be all too easy to just put out the flames and save some of the files. But then Hannibal will get away and this time, his trail will go cold. 

Will follows. 

By the time he makes it out of the building, though, Hannibal is gone, and his getaway truck screeches around the corner, cutting off a police officer on a motorcycle. 

“ACME Detective Will Graham,” Will says, flashing his badge. The police officer looks to still be in shock, but Will has more important things to worry about, as he gets on the motorcycle and snatches the helmet from the officer. “Don’t worry, I'll get this back to you. You call the fire department.” 

According to the police radio, the truck is headed for the highway. If Will floors it, he might be able to intercept the truck. It is only once he sees the truck approach the overpass that Will is on that Will realizes that he’s taken the wrong path, but he can’t let Hannibal get away. The ACME files were a sacrifice, and it will all be for nothing if Will doesn’t manage to catch Hannibal. 

Will jumps off the overpass and lands on top of the trailer, which buckles under the weight of the motorcycle. Will hits the brakes, and the motorcycle finally breaks through the top of the trailer. 

Hannibal doesn’t even seem surprised when Will grabs him by the collar from within the trailer. “You ACME detectives certainly are a persistent breed.”, he says fondly, patting an irate Will on the head before pressing a button, detaching the cab from the trailer and driving into the Atlantic, where the cab transforms into a submersible and disappears.

“Shit!”, Will swears, “How does he design those awesome vehicles?” 


	6. 19900303194533K840202

“Lecter was one tough cookie, but he did have a Will-shaped soft chewy center. Of course, you know I could have told Jack how to handle it, but this was back before I got put in charge.”, Price comments. 


	7. 19840714054312G840202

Will sighs, running a hand through his hair as he walks into the slightly-scorched ACME headquarters. “Hannibal got away again.”

Jack eyes him, an odd expression on his face. “I thought you said he would just disappear into the woodwork after that last heist.” 

Will slams a hand onto the table. “It doesn't add up, Jack! Why come back to ACME and just set it on fire?”

“What’s so strange about that?”, Jack challenges, “Maybe he just felt like giving us a final ‘fuck you’ before finding a new cover.” 

“Hannibal is too full of himself to bother burning all our files on the Chesapeake Ripper just because it’ll make it easier for us to find him again.”, Will explains, “He’d consider it more of a challenge. It would make more sense if he stole something from our files and then burned everything down to cover his tracks. It’d be a perfect crime.” 

“But what would he steal?”, Jack asks.

Will’s eyes go wide. “Wait. We kept records of every single thief and henchman we ever caught, but we also kept records of the ones we didn’t.” 

Jack’s expression is grim. “If that’s true, Lecter is probably globetrotting to recruit other thieves. Lecter believes that you could become a thief like him, right?”

“I would never!”, Will protests.

“Look,” Jack says, raising his hands, “I don’t doubt that you would never become a thief, but if Lecter believes that you would, we can infiltrate his whole operation and take it down. You’re the only one he would trust.” 

Will takes a moment to think about it. “Okay.”, he agrees, reluctantly.

Jack sighs in relief.

“But I’m going to have to prove to him somehow that I’m not a double agent by pulling off a brilliant heist.”, Will says.


	8. 19900303200349K840202

“And the rest, as they say, is history.”, Price says. 

Zeller frowns. “So the Great Red Dragon painting heist was faked?” 

“ACME got a tip that another thief was after it, and where better to hide it than one of the Chesapeake Ripper’s safe-houses?”, Price answers blithely. 

Beverly’s face scrunches up. “So why were you put on the case, then?”

“Well, this was all off the books, you see,” Price says, carefully, “and I was the only one of us who had the personal resources to pursue them.”

“But ACME paid you back, right?”, Zeller asks, wide-eyed. 

Price smirks. “What kind of fool do you take me for? Of course they paid me back. With interest.” 


	9. 19850722122746P826020

“Lecter slipped through our fingers again!”, Jack bellows, angry. 

Doctor Jimmy Price, very nearly used to Jack's temper tantrums, very nearly manages to suppress the instinctual flinch that comes with having a very angry man screaming at one. He shrugs nonchalantly. “At least this time I found out what he stole.” 

“What is it?”, Jack demands. “Will’s been in there for nearly a year now, we don’t have time for dilly-dallying!” 

“He stole a logbook from seventy or so years ago. It’s odd. The ship it belonged to, the Carpathia, was just an ordinary passenger boat.”, Jimmy comments.

“Well figure out why he stole it!”, Jack says, garbled. Price tilts his head at the computer screen, confused, as the screen dissolves into static. He checks his connection to the Suddenly, the screen resolves into Lecter’s countenance. 

“Hello, Doctor Price. It’s been quite a while since we’ve seen each other.”, Lecter says, cheerfully. 

“This is a secured frequency.”, Price points out, “How did you get in?” 

Lecter only smiles mysteriously. “Knowledge is power, as I am sure you well know, Doctor.” 

“Why are you here, Lecter?”, Price asks, more than fed up with Lecter's continual mind games. Not for the first time, he marvels at how Will somehow managed to put up with all that and not go insane. 

“Ah, yes. You see, I and my beloved’s anniversary is coming up, and I intend to commemorate it. As you have never partaken of marital bliss, you are forgiven for your current transgression.”, Lecter says, and if he was given to that form of self-expression, Price would have said he was grinning dopily. “However, should you again choose to intervene in my anniversary gift to Will, I will be forced to ensure your, shall we say, indisposition.” 

An Asian woman approaches Lecter and mutters something to him, and suddenly the screen goes static again. 

“-and we can’t leave him behind, you understand? Price? Are you listening to me?”, Jack’s voice cuts back in. 

“Lecter just broke in on our frequency.”, Price interrupts.

Jack looks horrified. “What?”

Price ignores him, barreling onwards. “Do we have a screen recording feature? Of course we do, ACME policy and all I have it, now I just need to... and there!” 

The woman’s artificially raised voice is still garbled by static, but two words are clear. 

The computer fritzes into static again, but this time, it is Will’s face which appears on the screen. “Price!”, he hisses, and Price jumps. 

“Will! What are you doing here?”, Price asks. “That doesn’t sound right. I mean, why are you doing this?”

Will rolls his eyes. “Hannibal is not as subtle as he thinks he is. What did he tell you?“

Price throws his hands up into the air, frustrated. “All your dear, darling husband said that he was planning some sort of anniversary gift, and then threatened to ‘indispose’ me! And then he got distracted by some lady and hung up.”

“No, Price.”, Will sighs, sinking his face into his hands. “Hannibal left a clue for you, because he’s a narcissistic prick. What. Was. The. Clue.” 

Price sighs. “She was saying something about Jason and Sydney.”

Will hums. Price has never quite known what went on in Will’s head when he zones out like that, when he closes his eyes and drifts. Chilton once said that it might have had to do with Will’s eidetic memory, but Chilton is an idiot of the highest caliber. 

Will opens his eyes, and then does something that Price has never once seen in his life before. He shrugs. “I don’t have anything.”, he admits. “Hannibal’s tailoring his clues. My cover might get a bit rocky soon, if he doesn’t trust me to not interfere. Tell Jack to start an extraction plan. I know Hannibal’s been looking into flight bookings to Australia, though, so he might be talking about the city, not a person.” Will disappears in a burst of static and Jimmy cannot help but feel discouraged. If Will Graham can’t figure it out, then who is he to decipher the cryptic message? 

Still, Price dutifully leans over his laptop and muses. What does Will like? He likes dogs, fishing, and boats; but Jimmy doubts that Lecter, as fussy as he is, is getting Will a dog-- and if he was, Price isn’t going to be the one to stop him. Fly ties might be a good choice, but what kind of connection to ‘Jason’ might there be? No, Lecter is a diva, and if he’s getting something for an anniversary, he’s going to go all the way.

It’ll be a boat of some sort, definitely. 

Price pulls up a list of ships due to arrive in Sydney Harbor, but there is no Jason in the list. 

He tries people due to arrive in Sydney, because why not? Lecter was, after all, only outed as the head of VILE because he was the lead suspect in the Chesapeake Ripper case. 

Unfortunately, despite the thirty-two Jasons he finds, not a single one of them has ever been in a country at the same time as Lecter. Price slumps in his chair, defeated. 

And then. 

His phone vibrates, Jack still insistently trying to play where it’s fairly obvious he’s not a part of this game. Price picks up anyways. 

“Sorry about that, old chap. Like I said, Hannibal broke in on our frequencies. On the other hand, I know where he’s headed. He’s going to be at Sydney Harbor.”

Price can almost hear the raised eyebrow on the other side of the phone. ‘To steal what?”

It clicks, and Price scrambles for the list of planned cargo shipments. Right there, in all-caps, is the word JASON. It’s supposed to be going to a Bedelia DuMaurier, and Price vaguely remembers the name from interviews they’d done with members of French high society after they’d managed to track Lecter to Marseilles. 

Lady DuMaurier had, after all, lamented dramatically over how her precious baby daughter had fallen in with the wrong crowd since going to college to study ‘sharks in the act of coitus, can you imagine?’

“Lecter’s going to steal an underwater camera called Jason!”, Price shouts, perhaps a bit too loudly, because a feedback loop begins to form. He winces at the high pitch and hangs up. 

Jack leaves him a voicemail. “I’ll send Interpol a tip. You get down there as soon as you possibly can.”


	10. 19900303201032K840202

“Since this was before they invented the C5 corridor, I caught the nearest express flight to Australia.”, Price continues.


	11. 19850723063824L03602

“Yeah, yeah, one robot camera, A-1 condition. Say, where's Captain DuMaurier today?”, the deliveryman asks.

Hannibal fixes him with one of his signature inscrutable smiles. “I'm afraid Captain DuMaurier is a little tied up today.” 

“Captain?”, Chiyoh asks, walking up the stairs to the upper deck. “I believe that- that thing in the tank belowdecks is a sign of bad luck.” 

“It is merely a specimen of genus Architeuthis, collected by our marine biologist friends down below. We will set it free before moving our operations. Now, prepare to cast off.” 


	12. 19850723105258P03602

Price may or may not have overslept, and wakes to an irate Will shaking him awake and throwing an earpiece in his face. Apparently, Lecter co-opted the aptly named ‘Diablo’ and is making preparations to set sail. 

At Will’s behest, Price hauls himself out of bed and towards the Sydney Harbor Bridge, going at least thirty miles over the speed limit the entire time. 

He gets to the bridge just as Lecter is pulling out of the harbor. 

“We’re too late!”, Price cries, defeated. “Well, better call harbor patrol.” 

“Hell no!”, Will hisses through the earpiece, “Park the car.” 

“What?”, Price asks. “I thought I heard you say park the car on the bridge in the middle of traffic, but I know you’re smarter than that.”

Will sighs. “Pull over, grab the parachute, and jump. I’ll take care of the car.” 

“Nuh-uh. No. Nope! No way!”, Price shouts.

“He’s getting away! Just do it!”, Will shouts back, and Price finds himself grabbing the parachute as he pulls over. 

“Go join ACME, they said,” Price grumbles, as he puts on the parachute, “It’ll be a safe, cushy research job, they said.” 

“JUMP!”, Will howls, and Price, god help him, does. 

The Asian woman from before is on the deck, and she turns around immediately when Price lands, rushing towards him menacingly. Price was never much of a fighter, though he manages to evade her for a surprisingly long time by just running away. Still, she manages to catch him, and sends him careening into the giant squid tank. It wraps its tentacles around Jimmy, pulling him towards its ugly maw. His last thought before he passes out is “Tentacles? Seriously?” 

Price wakes up on the deck, and immediately starts coughing up water. 

“Price? Price, is that you?”, Will asks. “Thank god you’re not dead.” 

“Can’t a man just get eaten by a giant squid in peace anymore?”, Price complains, but he gets up and scans his surroundings. No sign of Lecter anywhere.

Will sighs. “He left the boat. You missed him. Call harbor patrol. The code is billiards.” 

Click. 


	13. 19850727152517P03602

“We have to figure out where Lecter’s headed with that stolen underwater camera.”, Jack says, as he’s reviewing the video footage of Lecter’s getaway. “Those flags! Ships use flags like those to send messages to each other.” 

“Not according to this database on the international signal code. Those flags don't mean anything.”, Price says, scrolling his way through a massive inventory of flags. 

Jack breathes out through his nose like an angry bull. “What if it's a private code? I swear, it's like Lecter’s taunting me.” 

“Wait a minute.”, Price says. “The last thing Will said to me before he hung up was ‘the code is billiards’. What if Lecter’s color code is really a number code based on billiard ball colors! Purple is four, yellow is one, four, three, four, nine, five, six!” 

“Then we're looking for a destination latitude forty-one degrees forty-three minutes longitude forty-nine degrees fifty-six minutes.”, Jack says grimly. “He was headed northwest, according to the harbor patrol. Lecter stole the Carpathia's log back in Liverpool. Did the Carpathia ever cross that part of the North Atlantic?” 

“Usual route, I think.”, Price says, “Oh! Except for one day in 1912, a passenger liner sank right at that spot. The Carpathia went off course to rescue the survivors. Oh my god! Jack, he's going to steal the sunken ship Titanic as an anniversary gift for Will!” 

“Great work, Detective Price.”, Jack says, and clicks off the line. Not five minutes later, Will calls him. 

“Hannibal is going to have to give back the ugly Leda and the Swan painting he keeps over the mantle now.”, Will says, sounding positively giddy. 

“Do I want to know why?”, Price deadpans.

Will replies with a cheery, “Nope!” 


	14. 19850729145211L124709

“And there you have it, Chiyoh. Descending in nuclear submersibles, we will attach magnetic disks to the Titanic's hull, then activate self-inflating pontoons which will fill with hydrogen gas. The Titanic will rise like Venus from the sea.” 

Chiyoh looks at him sideways. “All this is just to get one ship? Are you certain you wouldn’t be better off with some pretty bauble?” 

Hannibal’s mouth resolves itself into something resembling a pout. “Will does not appreciate my pretty baubles, no matter how fine or valuable. He enjoys his boats so, and the Titanic was the largest and finest ship of her day. Unsinkable, they called her. So certain were they that on her maiden voyage they neglected to include enough lifeboats for all passengers then at twenty minutes to midnight on April fourteenth, nineteen-twelve she struck an iceberg and sank. Countless explorers have tried to locate the wreckage of the doomed ship, all have failed.

"Until now. But, using the log of the rescue ship Carpathia, I tracked that day's currents and calculated they were strong enough to carry the sinking Titanic due east, far from where everyone else suspected. Will cannot possibly reject this gift. When we reach the spot I have marked, I will go down first in the yellow submarine. You will follow me in the red one.” 

Chiyoh nods stoically. 


	15. 19850731004522P124709

Price picks Will up from the mainland late at night, and they fly out a few miles due east of the location Lecter had given them under the cover of darkness. They are extremely fortunate in being able to spot the tiny go-fast boat on their radar, and later, Jack will get a thorough dressing down by Purnell about it. But for now, Will handles the controls, expertly keeping them out of sight until Lecter disappears beneath the waves in a submarine.

“Price, take the wheel!”, Will orders, and parachutes off the helicopter, knocking the woman away from the red submarine with a flying kick. 

“It’s Will!”, the Asian woman shouts, running towards a pile of nearby firearms, but Hannibal is underwater by now and cannot hear her. Will doesn’t see her, either, and Price makes a split-second decision, following Will out of the helicopter and landing on top of her, sending the guns skittering across the deck. 

“I thought I said ‘take the wheel’!”, Will yells, as he jumps into the red submarine. 

Price grins and waves the now-detached steering wheel. “I did!” 

“Damn you, Price.”, Will sighs. The woman gets up, stumbling after Will. “Keep her busy!”, Will calls. 

Price does, tripping her as she lunges for a weapon, sending her careening into a net, which he promptly cinches closed. 

“And this is why you're the henchman and not the boss.”, Price says, triumphant. The woman doesn’t dignify that with a response. It's okay though, Price is chortling loud enough for the both of them. 


	16. 19850731010023G124709

“Right on target.”, Hannibal says, voice full of wonder. “Titanic.” Then he notices the split. “Chiyoh, are you there? The Titanic broke in two as it sank. The other section could be anywhere! We'll need more pontoons.” 

“That won't be necessary, Hannibal. The Titanic's not going anywhere.”, Will announces. 

“Will?”, Hannibal asks. His voice cracks in a decidedly undignified manner, and despite the fact that Will has spent the past year drawing all manner of noises from Hannibal, Will decides he likes this one best. His voice hardens. “You will regret this.” 

Hannibal aims and fires two missiles at the red submarine. They drift pass harmlessly.

“You missed.”, Will says, as if commenting on the weather. 

Will can hear Hannibal smiling. “I do not miss.” Two massive masts break in the ensuing explosion, and fall atop Will’s submarine, trapping him. “Come, now, my dear, I thought we were beyond backstabbing.” 

Hannibal turns his sub, as if to make off, but in a fit of desperation, Will fires a pontoon at him. 

“What?”, Hannibal shouts, as he begins floating upwards, and it is Will’s turn to smile smugly. 

“Just hoisting you on your own pontoon, Hannibal.” 

When they airlift Lecter into custody, it is with great relish that Price snickers, “We bagged him!” 

Still, Chiyoh escaped custody, and it leaves a sour taste on Will’s tongue as he nods away Jack and Price’s congratulations. 


	17. 19900303202637K840202

“The next day, a crew led by Dr. Robert Ballard found the rest of the Titanic, Lecter went to prison, and I asked for a nice, quiet lab job.”, Price finishes. “Will settled down with a widower for a while, a nice young woman, but one day he just started stealing famous artworks-- and the rest is history.”

“Look!”, Zeller interrupts, lifting a set of shoes out of the cardboard box. “Since when does anyone escape from prison barefooted? Price, those shoe prints I saw, wanna bet Lecter somehow got ahold of an orderly’s shoes?” 

“How about no.”, Price says, “I’ll bet fifty that Lecter died in the explosion.” 

Zeller thinks about it for a moment. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’ll take that deal.” 

“Well, I’m glad to see someone believes me.”, Beverly snarks. “Anyways, I’m just about done with the analysis on the postcard. We have a list of... five English words that Lecter could have written on the back of this postcard.” 

Price gives the list a once-over. “None of these words have any special meaning as far as I know.” 

Something nags at Beverly, something that she’s definitely heard of before. “Tell me about the ship in this picture again?” 

“Well,” Price replies, “It’s the Valkyrie, which used to be Hannibal’s boat, but since his incarceration has gone to Will. Last I knew, he kept it at a safe house in Belize.” 

“Look!”, Zeller says excitedly, pointing at her computer screen, “Belize!” Beverly and Price look over his shoulder at the list, and there it is, traced over in stark black lines. ‘Belize’.

“Price,” Beverly says, stepping onto the C5 platform, Zeller not far behind, “C5 us to Belize.” 


	18. 19900303202637Z0847

Beverly and Brian arrive at the safe house quietly, and not on a roof, for once. They peek around the corner out to the front. 

“There’s the Valkyrie.”, Brian comments, “Where's Lecter?” 

“On the ship, maybe?”, Beverly snarks, as they creep towards the Valkyrie. 

“Looking for me?”, Lecter says, inches away from the backs of their heads. Beverly starts and aims an uppercut at Lecter’s jaw, but a woman blocks the blow and swiftly restrains her, while Lecter grabs Brian. 

Brian snarls as Lecter begins tying him up. “Get your filthy, murderous paws off of me! You’re busted now that ACME knows where you are!”

Lecter just tilts his head, a small smirk playing about the corners of his lips. “Am I now? Chiyoh, please show my friends here how we deal with unwanted stowaways.”

Chiyoh daintily picks off the watches that are their link to HQ and Price, taking them with her as she disappears. Lecter himself muscles them into the house. 

“Whoa!”, Brian yelps as Lecter shoves him particularly hard down the stairs to the cellar. 

Beverly growls at Lecter. “Give it up, Lecter, you can’t lock us in here forever!” 

“Oh no, Miss Katz, I agree wholeheartedly. That would just be bad manners.”, Lecter says with a tiny quirk of his lips. “Besides, who needs locks.... when you've got crocs?” He laughs, striding away, as crocodiles waddle up to the door, snapping their jaws menacingly. Suddenly, water starts pouring into the room from the side, slowly flooding it.


End file.
